


Oh Captain, My Captain!

by Telaryn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Attraction, Boys Kissing, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Casual Sex, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, First Time, Flashbacks, Hook-Up, M/M, Memories, Past Relationship(s), Sexual Identity, Wartime Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky isn't the only person from Cap's past that he meets on that DC highway.  Captain Jack shows up too late to keep our heroes from being taken into custody, but when he commits to a fight he doesn't stop until the fight is done.</p>
<p>Especially when it means he can reconnect with a wartime fling from seventy plus years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Captain, My Captain!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kastron (decidueye)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/gifts).



> Ishilde gave me the ~~plot bunny~~ challenge - I'm just sorry it took me so long to wrestle it into some kind of shape.
> 
> Character study wherein we find that Steve has that effect on _everybody_ , and Jack really is a romantic at heart.

The mask had fallen – the Winter Soldier, the ghost of the intelligence community, was none other than James Buchanan Barnes; Steve’s best friend, brother in arms, and a man he’d watched fall to his death over seventy years ago.

There _was_ something standing between them though: “Who the hell is Bucky?” had been the assassin’s only response when Steve called him by name.

Steve hadn’t had a second to react before a blast from an impossibly large rifle wielded by another man he’d thought he’d see again slammed into Bucky – knocking him back nearly twenty yards, but otherwise not hurting him at all. They’d all whipped around then to see a square-jawed man in an old military greatcoat standing on top of the wreckage of the city bus and looking furious.

It was too much – the shield was already falling from Steve’s grip before the shouts filled his ears demanding he surrender. He couldn’t move…he couldn’t think; when Rumlow kicked him to his knees Steve barely felt it.

_Bucky…and Jack Harkness?_ Each of them looking no older than when he’d last seen them seventy years ago – which explained Natasha’s intelligence that the Winter Soldier had been credited with over two dozen assassinations spanning fifty years. Steve couldn’t help the laughter that escaped from him as he realized the conclusion his brain had just drawn.

“You with us there, Cap?” Rumlow drawled. Steve flinched as the sound of the man’s voice penetrated the warm, soft cocoon of madness he seemed to have surrounded himself with. He didn’t bother answering, but awareness that he was already cuffed seemed to bring him more fully back from the brink of whatever abyss his mind had tried to retreat into.

_Deal with the moment,_ he thought as he was hauled to his feet and saw that Natasha and Sam were in similar straits. Bucky was a match for him now in strength, speed and recovery. That told Steve that at the very least he’d been injected with a variant of the serum that had changed Steve’s life. At worst he’d been experimented on by people who knew how to twist a man’s mind until he no longer distinguished between friend and foe.

None of which explained what the hell _Jack Harkness_ had been doing on the scene.  
**********************  
“We’re not going after them?” Gwen asked.

Jack shook his head. “Not yet.” He kept his focus on the figure being loaded into the back of a transport with two other prisoners, similarly restrained. “We don’t have near enough intel.”

His partner snorted softly. “That’s stopping you all of a sudden?” Below the position they’d retreated to, the doors of the transport were shut and the convoy was preparing to depart. The cyborg who’d fallen victim to Jack’s shot was still on his feet and being escorted to another waiting vehicle.

“That’s Captain America down there,” Jack said, tearing his focus away at last. “Being taken into custody by SHIELD forces; what exactly _does_ the term ‘international incident’ mean to you anyway?” Feeling out of sorts all of a sudden, he perched on a pile of debris that used to be a car and looked up at the former police officer.

“As little as it usually means to you,” she countered, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “Seriously Jack – what’s all this about?”

_She doesn’t deserve your mood,_ he reminded himself, forcing his dark thoughts as far back as he dared. Besides, if there was anyone left in his life he could trust with the story it would be Gwen. “New Year’s Eve 1942,” he said at last. “It was my second trip through the 1940s, while I was waiting to run across the Doctor again. There was a local group throwing a New Year’s Eve party for the troops. Captain America was in country doing a goodwill tour with Captain Britain and I think a lot of people were hoping they’d stop by.

Jack paused then, remembering the handsome American he’d literally bumped into on the edge of the dance floor. “They did,” he continued, forcing himself back to the present and Gwen with a small shiver of emotion, “but neither of them was in costume at first.”

“You slept with Captain America?” Jack wasn’t surprised that she had made the obvious leap, but he _was_ perversely grateful that Gwen had managed to keep from shrieking.

“Not at first,” he admitted. “Not that night. I didn’t even realize who he was until after he kissed me the first time.”

_”I have to go to work,” Rogers’ expression had seemed genuinely apologetic as he broke off what had been nearly two hours of pleasant conversation. “Can I see you again after the show?” Jack’s head had already been spinning – the last thing he’d expected from the evening was a good looking and impossibly charming American soldier treating him like he was the only person in the hall that mattered._

“It wasn’t hard to guess he was with the tour,” Jack went on, his voice thick with emotion, “but I figured he was a stage manager or a prop guy or something.” He laughed softly, remembering how dumbstruck he’d been when Captain Freaking America had actually winked at him from the stage and he’d realized precisely who was under the star spangled hood. “The last thing I expected was that I’d spent the evening talking to the poster boy for the entire American war effort.”

Gwen’s expression softened. “So what happened after the show?”

“Honestly?” Jack shrugged. “That entire week seems like a dream. The first night it was just a late dinner. We talked ourselves hoarse, and when we were leaving the restaurant he told me he was attracted to me.”

It was surreal. Jack had spent so much of his life being the aggressor – flirting with everything that crossed his path, whether they appreciated his attentions or not – and somebody like Steve Rogers had managed to walk into his life and completely blindside him. “He pulled me back into the alley beside the restaurant and kissed me.”

_”I’m sorry,” was amazingly the first thing Rogers said. “I probably should have asked first, but I didn’t want to take the chance you’d say no, or that you wouldn’t want to see me again after tonight.”_

_On anyone else it would have sounded like a line – coming from someone like the man in front of him, Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He settled for pressing himself full length against that perfect body and showing Captain Steve Rogers exactly how much he wanted to see him again after that night._

“I followed the tour as long as they stayed in Britain,” he said, completely lost in memory now. Gwen reached out and gripped his shoulder; grateful for the contact, Jack covered her hand with his. “We had to be discreet, but by the third night…”

_By the third night Jack was in Steve’s hotel room. He could still remember how stupid and awkward he'd felt now that the moment they'd been moving towards was finally here. “Don’t worry,” Rogers had said, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Jack’s slacks and pulling him back towards the bed. “This is new for me too.”_

“He thought you were a virgin?” Once gain Jack was grateful Gwen was in control of her baser reactions because even he had to admit if he stepped out of the quicksand of his memories that the idea of him being mistaken for any kind of virgin was patently ridiculous.

“I set him straight eventually,” he admitted. “Guy had a force of personality like I’ve never experienced before though. We were already in bed together when my brain finally caught up with the idea that Captain America wanted to sleep with _me_.”  
***************************  
“You never told me you were gay.”

Steve smiled, ducking his head. After everything they’d been through in the past couple of days – let alone the past few hours – his only surprise at Natasha choosing _this_ to focus on was how little it surprised him. “I’m not,” he said, turning to face her. “The proper term is bisexual I believe, although I’ve only been attracted to a few men in my life and I’m hoping we’re close enough friends that you’ll consider not telling Stark.”

Her smile at that was genuine, even though he could still see the pain of her injury reflected in her eyes. _Dammit Buck,_ he thought, his heart twisting painfully at the memory of their eyes meeting and realizing that the person he loved most in the world had no idea who he was. “How is it?” he asked, nodding at her shoulder.

Natasha looked surprisingly self-conscious for a moment. “I’m a fast healer.” She paused, and Steve braced himself for the questions about Bucky to start. Instead though, it seemed as if the Black Widow had a different agenda. “So…Torchwood?”

It took him a second to make the connection. “You mean Jack?” He snorted softly, shaking his head. “Figures.” He knew the name of the organization, knew its history in Britain traced back more than a century, but it wasn’t until after he’d come back to life that he understood they were a less well-funded version of SHIELD. “When I knew him he was just this random American airman who happened to be in London the same time I was doing a goodwill tour with Captain Britain.”

He felt his cheeks grow warm as she arched one eyebrow at him. “A one-night stand, oh Captain my Captain? With the only known immortal on the entire planet?”

“It wasn’t one night,” he retorted, although he was relieved to have a _relatively_ easy answer for how Jack had shown up looking not even a minute older than he did when Steve had last seen him seventy plus years ago. “And we had at least…” He did the math quickly in his head, dredging up very pleasant memories of shared dinners and hours of conversation, “…three dates before anything happened beyond a few kisses.”

_A few really nice kisses,_ his hind-brain insisted on pointing out. “I also didn’t know he was immortal,” he added, taking a deep breath and praying his body would spare him the embarrassment of a full on blush. “Never even occurred to me that he could still be alive after all this time.”

“Would that have made a difference?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed as he caught a hint of _something_ in Natasha’s gaze, but without anything to immediately tie it to he said, “Back then I probably would have thought it was the coolest thing I’d ever encountered. Now?” He tried to give the question the consideration it deserved but every time he tried to focus on Jack, Bucky’s image rose in his mind. Finally he sighed and shook his head.

“I can’t. If I didn’t know Bucky was alive, okay – I definitely would have hunted Jack up before now. After today though…”

“You told me in London, remember?”

Rogers’ heart skipped several beats as he realized the look he couldn’t identify was Natasha watching the two people that were coming up behind him. “The last night we were together you told me there was somebody else, somebody who had your heart.” Jack’s expression was strange, exactly like Steve remembered it being that night seventy years earlier. “You thanked me for showing you that you could love him as completely as you wanted to – that it was okay.”

“How did you find us?” Natasha asked. Steve didn’t have to check behind him to know that her gun was in her hand.

Jack’s companion – a dark-haired woman with a Welsh accent – said, “Our tech may not be as flashy as yours, but it gets the job done.”

“You can see why that wouldn’t necessarily be encouraging?” Steve asked, keeping his focus on Jack. “We appreciate the assist more than I can tell you, but you can see what we’re up against right now.”

The other man took a few steps closer. “We don’t understand all of it, but I’m willing to bet you could use a couple of extra guns.”

“We accept,” Natasha said, before Steve could say anything. He glanced back at her.

“You said they were part of Torchwood. That doesn’t scream international incident to you?” 

He heard Jack’s partner snort, and there was obvious amusement in Harkness’ voice when he said, “The British government is currently on the hate side of their love-hate relationship with us. We’re not here in any kind of an official capacity.” He clasped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Let us help. Please.”

The physical contact with Jack was like a low level current through Steve’s body. He swallowed hard, his thoughts drifting in directions he couldn’t afford and wouldn’t allow himself. “Thank you,” he finally managed. “We really could use the help.”

“I’m Natasha,” Nat said, holstering her gun.

“Gwen,” Jack’s partner said, nodding sharply. “And I’m assuming you already know Jack.”

“We’ve never met,” Nat said, grinning, “but…”

“My reputation precedes me,” Jack said, grinning. “As does yours, Agent Romanoff.”  
**********************  
Seventy years and he was behaving like no time at all had passed. Jack flexed his fingers against the muscles of Steve’s shoulder and smiled slightly as he heard the Captain’s breath catch in his throat. He didn’t tense or pull away though, and the implications of _that_ made Jack’s heart race.

He saw the redhead’s eyebrows lift, and favored her with his most charming grin – daring her without words to say something. “Ah, why don’t I take Gwen inside and introduce her?” Natasha said. She smirked openly at Rogers. “You boys grab what alone time you can.”

_Now_ Steve pulled away. Jack would have felt bad except that he saw Rogers’ pale skin flush a bright red, and heard the Captain mutter something under his breath.

“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said once they were alone. Jack was torn between amusement and disappointment that Rogers seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes all of a sudden. “Some days it seems like she’s been trying to set me up ever since they pulled me out of the ice. Now that she knows men are on the table as an option…”

“You know, sleeping with me doesn’t necessarily negate someone’s cis-gendered status,” Jack countered. He was trying for flip, but he was finding that whatever Steve Rogers had that had turned him into a tongue-tied would-be virgin seventy years ago was still very much in play. “Of course, even when we were together it was all about him wasn’t it? Bucky.”

Steve’s perfect blue eyes were suddenly filled with a more complicated tangle of emotions than Jack was prepared to deal with. “It wasn’t entirely about Bucky,” he admitted, his voice gone suddenly soft in a way that made Jack feel entirely unsteady on his feet. “I was attracted to you. I _am_ attracted to you.”

Sensing his moment, Jack moved closer. “I’m usually a lot better at being Mr. ‘Right Now’ than Mr. Right.” He reached out and gently traced the line of Steve’s jaw with his fingertips. Cap shivered, leaning slightly into Jack’s touch. “I swear though, you look at me and I think that Bucky Barnes is someday going to be the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived.”

“Jack…” Steve began, but before he could say anything else, Jack leaned in and kissed him. It was soft at first, almost hesitant, but when the Captain didn’t pull away from him, Jack pulled him in closer. The kiss deepened, grew hungrier, more desperate. Jack had a moment where he knew he could have pressed his small advantage and maneuvered the man in his arms into one last fling – but he was old enough now to understand that the thing that had always drawn people to Captain America was that he somehow made you want to be a better person. You wanted to be worthy of his friendship and to have his respect. 

“Like I said,” Jack murmured, smiling at Steve as their lips parted, “the luckiest son of a bitch that ever lived.”


End file.
